Hold Onto Me
by crimescenelover
Summary: His body felt leaden and heavy as it drifted towards the bottom and his hazy mind vaguely recognized that he was actually drowning.
1. Misty Eye of the Mountain Below

**Title:** Hold Onto Me

**Chapter title: **Misty Eye of the Mountain Below

**Summary:** His body felt leaden and heavy as it drifted towards the bottom and his hazy mind vaguely recognized that he was actually drowning.

**Author's Note:** Hello! And welcome to my story! If you will bother to read this little author's note then I will tell you that this is my first story in this fandom and I can honestly say I am kind of scared! This was by far the most difficult fanfiction I have ever had to write, in relative to language. It was a little difficult to capture, since it isn't exactly modern and English is not y native tongue, but I have tried my best, but I would like to know how I did.

"_Italics inside quotation marks"_ means the words are spoken in Elvish, just to avoid any later confusion.

This story was inspired by the awesome art work from AmyLee-Chan on Deviantart, which is also this story's default picture.

The chapter titles are pieces from Ed Sheeran's wonderful "I See Fire" from '_Desolation of Smaug_'. I am not ashamed.

Anyways, enjoy this little story and if you would be so kind to leave a review at the end of it that would absolutely make my day! :D

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you might recognize. It all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien (and dare I say, Peter Jackson). This has been written only for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

"_A friend is a treasure, more precious than gold.  
For love shared is priceless and never grows old__._  
_Friendships that have stood the test of time are surely best.  
Brows may wrinkle and hair grows gray  
but friendship knows no decay_."

* * *

The sky loomed dark and gloomy above.

The chilly feel in the air along with the black clouds threatened with the promise of rain. The wind blew across the lumpy, grassy landscape and made striations in the surface of the large, normally calm river and rustled the leaves on the trees of the forest a mile to the east. It collected the small pieces of sand and fallen leaves on its path and made them sail lightly over the ground.

Legolas looked up at the dark sky as the wind gently played with his light hair. He and Aragorn were on their way to Rivendell. Aragorn had come to Mirkwood to visit his long time friend and when Legolas finally could be excused of his duties of both his father and his woodland realm, they departed from the darkening forest towards Imladris. However, they were not in a hurry and decided to take a longer road towards Aragorn's home.

The Ranger knew his dear friend had been busy with controlling the borders of the Woodland Realm and helping his father beating back the darkness that had spread like wildfire. He could see it in Legolas' eyes that the Elf was growing weary with seeing his beloved forest turn darker and darker, so he had taken it upon himself to make him feel better, which meant taking him to other forests that had yet to be touched by the Dark Lord's reach.

Legolas himself had quickly seen through what his friend was trying to do, but he did not call him out on it. Indeed, he knew he needed relief from the despairing tasks that had filled his life lately but what drove him the most was that he had greatly missed his best friend and in these times they rarely had the time to travel to each other's homes. And since Aragorn had joined the Rangers, it wasn't always easy, knowing where the ranger would turn up next. Legolas knew he had to savor every moment they were together, because it wouldn't be long before duties would separate them again.

Next to him Aragorn too had turned his head upwards and he shivered quickly when he felt the cold autumn air brush against his clothes. Legolas noticed and an amused smile spread across his lips.

"Are you cold, human?" he asked. Elves did not feel the elements as much as mortals did, neither extreme cold nor heat would bother them much, which meant Legolas most of the time would be light at heart on their travels even when they encountered the ever changing weather. Often he found it amusing that his human companion could feel the rising or falling temperatures and would mock him about his inability to ignore it. Of course it would only be in jest and if a break or finding shelter was needed he would happily be the first one to suggest doing so, despite Aragorn's complaints. But that didn't stop him from mocking Aragorn whenever he got the chance.

"Nay. I was merely gazing upon this land and its beauty simply marveled me."

"You do not expect me to believe that, do you? We have wandered through this landscape many times and never once have I seen you shiver because of its appearance, no matter how marvelous it may be."

"Perhaps I have only truly looked upon it now," Aragorn retorted quickly.

The Elf merely raised a bemused eyebrow at his friend's remark and instead of answering he simply shot him an all-knowing look that spoke of what he didn't voice out loud. _You cannot fool me, human_. Then he turned his gaze upwards to the sky again. "However, I do believe we need to head for the trees for shelter."

"Is the Elf running scared now?"

"I am merely looking out for the pitiful human who cannot withstand the elements of nature," Legolas teased, but his jesting mood didn't last more than a few seconds as his sharp ears caught the low rumble that came from above the clouds. He quickly turned sober. "Do you not feel the heaviness in the air?" he asked.

Judging from the look on Aragorn's face, he knew the ranger had picked it up too. So he wasn't surprised, when Aragorn spoke the next words.

"Aye, I do. Let us head to the trees for shelter and make camp before the downpour hits us."

"Who is running scared now?" Legolas couldn't resist one last taunt. Aragorn exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and together the two friends let their horses towards the forest.

* * *

It hit them a few hours later.

Hard.

It wasn't a light drizzle or a steady calming fall. No, it was a heavy downpour that thundered to the ground and on the leaves of the trees. It started with the warning sounds of loud thunder that rolled across the clouds and rumbled like the sounds of a great battle. Soon the rain followed and the large droplets had quickly soaked the ground completely. Lightening followed shortly ever. Luckily the two friends had managed to set up their small camp and made an overhang big enough to shelter their belongings along with Aragorn's sleeping form.

The ranger had denied being tired at first, but since they could do nothing but wait for the storm to pass he relented and lay down on the moist ground and soon fell into an uneasy rest. Legolas wasn't bothered much about pouring rain so, after making sure their horses were secure and comfortable, he climbed up the nearest tree of their camp and settled himself on one of its thick branches. It felt so very different from the trees in his home at Mirkwood, which as of late were becoming more distraught and withdrawn. Rarely did he sense the comfort and content that this tree exuded of. He let its peace envelop him and slowly he drifted into the brightest corners of his mind, but remained ever vigilant of the echoing rain drops.

So when the storm passed a few hours later Legolas was the first one to blink open his eyes and feel the warm and shining rays of the Sun as she peeped back out from the parting clouds. But that wasn't what truly tore him from his waking dreams. It was the wind that caressed his skin. With it, it carried a dangerous and ominous feeling. Moments later, he felt the same warning come from the trees around him and the perilous sensation rushed through his veins.

In one motion he jumped down from the tree and landed gracefully on the ground. His senses high-lightened instantly as they tried to identify their incoming peril. The hairs in the back of Legolas' neck stood on end as the threat come closer and became identifiable. Legolas' eyes widened as his keen ears picked up the sounds of pounding feet and running grunts. Quickly he placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder and shook him.

"_Aragorn, awaken!_" he whispered in the Elven tongue. Startled the ranger shot up and met Legolas' worried gaze.

"_What is it?_" Aragorn replied. His senses were still dulled by sleep, as were his eyes, but quickly they attuned themselves to his surroundings and soon he too picked up what Legolas already knew.

But the Elf voiced it nonetheless. "Orcs."

**TBC**

Leave a little review and the next chapter will come quicker! :D


	2. Blood in the Breeze

**Title:** Hold Onto Me

**Chapter title: **Blood in the Breeze

**Summary:** His body felt leaden and heavy as it drifted towards the bottom and his hazy mind vaguely recognized that he was actually drowning.

**Author's Note: **Thank you to all of those who reviewed, added to alert and favorite! I reward you with another chapter. Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: **Written for entertainment purposes only. I own nothing you might recognize.

* * *

Aragorn shot up from the ground and began packing all that had been left out of the bags when they made camp. "How many?" he asked, knowing his friend's senses were finer attuned than his own.

"Their number is high, forty I would reckon. A league or so away and coming closer with great speed."

Aragorn nodded and fastened his belt with his scabbard around his waist. Legolas too readied himself as he fastened his quiver along with the scabbard to his two long knives on his back. His bow he took in his hand. He knew he would have to use it before the day had passed.

With their things packed, although clumsily, they made their way to their tied-up horses. The animals were whining and neighing franticly as they too could feel the incoming danger. Both riders untied their bonds and climbed their mounts, while they spoke calming assurances to the horses, so they wouldn't be spooked enough to run madly without their owners.

They rode away from the forest trees and began riding along the river with as much speed at their horses could muster. But the terrain was far from flat and everywhere jugged rocks ran up from the ground, which meant their mounts had to tread carefully as not to injure themselves. So their process was far slower than they would have liked.

Legolas risked a glance back.

From the forest, where the two friends had taken shelter only minutes ago, the pack of Orcs ran out and like a synchronized form it stampeded across the plains. From the one-mile distance, Legolas could hear their foul tongue as they yelled at each other. What they said, Legolas did not know but he could hazard a guess and his guess was not a comforting one.

He watched with horror as the pack came ever closer and closer despite being without mounts and he was now able to distinguish every wretched, black face from each other. "They are gaining!" he warned Aragorn and the ranger looked behind him as well. He then turned his eyes to their front and quickly a plan formed in his mind.

"Ride towards the hill. We can lose them there!" he said to his Elven companion. They pressed their mounts to their fullest potential, the horses stumbling slightly on the uneven land, towards a large hill that erupted from the landscape like a lonely tower. As they crossed it and rode downwards, their pursuers lost them of sight, if only for a few seconds. But that was all they needed.

"Dismount and let our horses run. They won't be caught and it will offer a distraction we need," Aragorn quickly explained and jumped down from his horse. Legolas promptly did the same and did not question his friend. Over the years their friendship had lasted, they had formed a bond and with that came a deep trust. Both of them trusted the other's decisions in dire situations and followed each other without question.

They let their horses run, giving each of them instructions to flee as fast as their legs could carry them. The two friends then hid along the small set of rocks, hoping their followers would only set eyes upon their fleeing animals and head in their direction, not noticing that they would be rider free. They crouched down and readied their weapons; Aragorn adjusted his grip on his sword while Legolas placed an arrow onto his bowstring.

A slow wind blew and the quiet howling was all that was heard for agonizing two seconds.

Then they heard the shouts of the Orcs and their thick feet pounding on the grass floor as they crossed the hill. As expected they changed their course to go after the horses, their weapons raised and their foul mouths yelling. Aragorn and Legolas waited until almost all of them had passed them. With a nod to his companion, Aragorn released a warrior's shout and came out from their meager hiding place with his sword above his head. Legolas stood up as well and before any of the Orcs could process what was transpiring, two arrows had imbedded themselves into the necks of two of them. They fell dead to the ground before the rest of them realized they had been fooled.

From then on, the fight turned into a muddled chaos. The odds hadn't exactly been in their favor, with forty against two so it was far from a fair fight to begin with. Their only advantage was to take out as many vile beings as possible before they could realize what was happening. They had managed to slay four or five by the time that happened. Though it meant there would be fewer Orcs to deal with when they regrouped and gained their bearings, it wasn't much. Their odds had only been improved by a few feet, so the battle quickly transformed from strategized into one of absolute survival with no other strategy than cutting down any foul Orc that came within range of their weapons.

Legolas managed to fire two more arrows with his deadly precision, before the enemies got to close for the use of his bow. Instead he drew his two long knives and prepared for close contact battle. As he dispatched of the first Orc by sticking one of his knives into its chest, he felt his mind disconnect from his body.

Soon instinct took over and guided his body through the battle. He followed it without question and let the twin knives become an extension of his arms as he stabbed through the Orcs that dared come close enough. His quick eyes and lightening reflexes made his body move faster than most mortal eyes could follow. As usual, he lost track of time when he fought. The only thing he paid attention to was the next Orc in front of him, the next swing of his knives and the next steadying breath.

He had no idea how much time had passed during their battle. The sun was still shining down upon the two fighting warriors when both of them began to feel the weariness seeping into their bones. The ground was slick with black blood and littered with dead Orc bodies, but it seemed like whenever they had slain one, another took its place. Their numbers had been drastically decreased as both Elf and man had chopped their way through them, but now they began to falter as they grew more tired and soon mistakes would be inevitable. Legolas knew they had to end this, before that happened. Because a mistake now held the cost of your life.

But that was exactly what happened.

Just as Legolas blocked an incoming attack with one knife and severed the attacker's head with the other, his bright eyes caught a terrifying sight. Aragorn was fighting against two relentless Orcs and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get an opening to finish them off. But that wasn't what filled Legolas' heart with fear. It was the Orc that came sneaking up from behind. It raised its black mallet high up in the air, prepared to strike.

There was no time.

No time to call out, no time to warn his friend of the looming peril.

The Mirkwood prince reacted purely on instinct. Faster than the blink of an eye, he had his bow in his hand and an arrow aimed on its string. He let it fly without hesitation and the arrow embedded itself deeply into the creature's right eye. It collapsed onto the ground, dead.

But his moment of inattentiveness to his own surroundings cost him dearly.

Too late he felt the presence creeping up at his side. In a desperate attempt to save himself from harm, he turned to try and block the incoming attack but even as he pivoted on his heel, he knew he was never going to make it. The two weapons clung loudly as steel clashed against steel. The Elf's parry stopped the Orc blade from entering his heart like it had intended. Instead it ricocheted along the white Elven blade and pierched Legolas' side.

Pain immediately spread throughout his body and he couldn't hold back the cry that escaped his lips. But it wasn't just pain that filled all of his being. Something else seemed to run through his veins. It made his body feel weak and his movements turned sluggish. His hands shook violently and the long knife dropped from his fingers. His mind fogged up and all of his thoughts got muddled together and suddenly he couldn't think a single coherent sentence. His vision grayed at the edges and the world around seemed to fade from clarity.

Vaguely, he was aware of hands grabbing his arms firmly and long claws digging into his skin.

He heard Aragorn's frantic voice call out his name.

He felt himself suddenly become airborne and the world tilted. For a few seconds he flew weightlessly through the air.

Then he felt his body connect with the hard surface of water. An icy feeling quickly spread as the water soaked through his clothes and skin. He gasped at the chilling sensation and water poured into his mouth and nose and he choked.

His leaden body was heavy as it drifted towards the bottom and his frantic mind began to recognize that he was drowning.

**TBC**


	3. I See Fire

**Title:** Hold Onto Me

**Chapter title:** I See Fire

**Summary:** His body felt leaden and heavy as it drifted towards the bottom and his hazy mind vaguely recognized that he was actually drowning.

**Author's Note: **A quick but major thank you to all who have reviewed, alerted and everything else.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

He couldn't move.

He couldn't breathe.

His body wouldn't cooperate, no matter how hard his brain screamed at it to do so. He desperately tried to twist and turn and get his body to move, but nothing worked. The thick masses of water closed in on him and sank into his clothes and pulled him deeper and deeper. If he could just _breathe_. His lungs refused to contract or expand as they were filling up with the murky river water.

He found that his energy was quickly draining from him as he sank further and further into the darkness towards the river bottom. Frantically his eyes searched for anything that could help him escape from this watery grave. But they found nothing. Everywhere he looked he saw only the shimmering darkness, creeping closer and closer.

Panic set in.

But then he looked up. The Sun was a bright circle of light above him, sticking out against the dark blue that surrounded him. He gingerly lifted his arm and let it float upwards until his fingers touched her rays that reached below the water surface. He frowned in confusion. Instead of the panic, the fear and the desperation there seemed to grow a sudden feeling of content and peace inside his numbing body. A sort of acceptance started to spread and he found himself stop his struggling of what was happening. Instead he simply relaxed and floated through the dark.

He had never given much thought as to how he would eventually die. He had never imagined it, nor feared it. And why would he? Of course he wasn't arrogant enough to believe nothing could fell him. He knew his life could be cut short by a swing of a blade or loosen of an arrow on a bowstring, just like any other. And he especially believed it given that he was a warrior. However, he was an Elf, which meant he was immortal just like the rest of his kin. There weren't many Elves who contemplated the nature of their death, though lately it seemed more were beginning to consider it, given the rising darkness. But Elves did not grow sick or weak as the time passed, only stronger. They did not fantasize about the manner of their death or wondered if they would die with honor. If they were to fall in battle honor had already graced them and if it came by a broken heart they could still find peace. Despairing thoughts such as the manner and honor of death belonged in the hearts of mortal Men.

But as he floated down towards the bottom he felt oddly content with the way he would leave this earth. He was surrounded by a coaxing silence and his beloved nature. Although he preferred woods above water, the trees of the forest they had taken shelter in had big roots that ran deep through the earth and he could feel their serenity all the way through the mud of the river floor.

It was a nice sentiment to leave with.

He would be at peace.

Time lost all meaning.

Nothing mattered any longer.

Suddenly it seemed ridiculous that he had spent so much time fighting to save his home from the darkness. All the fighting, despair and fear seemed completely unreasonable and he now failed to see the point of trying so hard. Would it really matter in the long run?

Nothing lasts forever, not even the lives of the Eldar.

His mind turned slow and sluggish and coherent thoughts no longer formed in his head. Instead he simply observed the surroundings, devoid of any emotion; neither fear nor calm.

Legolas merely watched with grim fascination when some of the last bubbles of air left his mouth and nose and rushed upwards to the surface where they would brake and pop. His hair swayed in the water like beautiful light seaweed. His crystal blue eyes lazily followed his blood trail as it tinted the blue river with a red hue.

His exhausted gaze turned towards the Sun again and let her bright and calming shine rid him of his last comprehensions. Just as he felt his fingers on his left hand touch the muddy bottom a large shadow appeared and blocked out the Sun's rays. A black limb extended itself from the looming shadow and reached forward to Legolas' outstretched hand. The Elf tried to force his arm down but found that he did not have the energy nor the will. But it did not matter. The frayed darkness from the corners of his vision closed in, just as the shadow did, and he closed his eyes and let it all consume him.

* * *

Aragorn had felt the Orc sneak up behind him, but he also knew that if he turned to face it he would be cut down where he stood by the other two. So he prepared his body for the strike, to try and move out of the way of the blade before it could find its mark. But he found that he did not need to worry, because he heard the snap of an arrow leaving a string, heard it rush through the air and heard the sound of a body hitting the ground. Then the presence was no more.

He had just managed to slay the two other Orcs when a cry of pain reached his ears. He knew it hadn't come from any of the dark creatures around them. He instantly recognized the pitch of the musical, light voice. He span around and saw a large Orc grab a hold of an unresponsive Legolas. The Elf was curled inwards and his head hung limply. "Legolas!" Aragorn yelled just as it threw him through the air and into the river.

As he saw his friend hit the water, hatred surged through him.

Aragorn roared as he raised his sword. He began chopping through the remaining Orcs with a ferocity he didn't know that he had, fueled by anger and deep fear of his Elf-friend. They all fell before his sword, their heads tumbling off their shoulders and their blood staining his blade even more.

He had no care. Every one of them tasted his wrath and not one was spared. Quicker than he had thought imaginable, he had cut down the last one. He stood there for only a moment, breathing heavily. Sweat tickled his brow and his heart was pounding madly. Wearily he looked around and made sure there was no one left alive. All around him there was bodies of Orcs, their black blood splattered all over themselves and the ground.

Then he tossed his sword carelessly away, heard it clatter against the dirt and ran to the riverbed where he had last seen his friend. There was no sign of Legolas, only a few bubbles broke the surface. Franticly his eyes searched for anything that could help him locate the Elf.

Then he caught sight of a faint light shimmer that seemed to grow more and more distant. Aragorn did not hesitate. He plunged his arm into the freezing water and then felt his hand grab something solid. He pulled and soon the shape of Legolas appeared through the clear water.

His eyes were hidden behind his eyelids and his body was slack and cold. He was much paler than usual and completely lifeless.

Soon Aragorn had maneuvered the surprisingly heavy, limp form up on the riverbed. Legolas' blond hair was wet and heavy and his clothes were drenched and wrinkled. A big red stain covered a large part of his side and had colored the normally green garment.

Aragorn gingerly lifted the torn fabric and saw the large puncture wound the Orc blade had made in his friend. It bled profusely. The blood was running down and mixed with the water on the ground. But the wound alone would not be enough to render his friend into this unconscious state.

Shaking, he got out his small hunting knife and placed the blade underneath Legolas' nose.

It did not fog.

Dread instantly filled his veins.

_No_ …

He bent down and placed his head on Legolas' chest. He heard a faint, erratic beat. Quickly, he tipped back Legolas' head and opened up his mouth. Then he pinched his nose and gave two deep breaths. He looked to the side at Legolas' chest to check if it moved. It didn't, not on its own. It moved only with the breath Aragorn had supplied. He gave another two and ended up with the same result. His fear grew larger with every passing moment.

"Come on, Legolas. Do not give in," he pleaded though it fell to deaf ears.

Again he covered the Elf's mouth with his and watched the forced rise and fall of his chest. He kept repeating the action, over and over. He watched with desperation in his eyes the unmoving chest. Tears began welling up and blurred his vision. Legolas' lax face became disoriented as Aragorn refused to let the tears fall.

To cry would be to admit defeat and acceptance that his friend was gone from this world. That he was dead. It was a truth Aragorn could not accept … he wouldn't.

"Do not give in!" he frantically yelled. "You shall not leave me. I won't allow it! Breathe!"

He put his hands on top of his chest and pressed, in a desperate attempt to pump out the water that filled Legolas' lungs.

Again and again, he switched between pressing down and breathing into his mouth. The tears gathered up in the corners of his eyes. The first one fell and rolled down his cheek as he felt his hope waning.

_Please_.

**TBC**


	4. Keep Careful Watch Over My Brothers Soul

**Title:** Hold Onto Me

**Chapter title: **Keep Careful Watch Over My Brother's Soul

**Summary:** His body felt leaden and heavy as it drifted towards the bottom and his hazy mind vaguely recognized that he was actually drowning.

**Author's Note: **So this little story comes to an end. It was never long or complicated. Just short and sweet with a healthy touch of angst. I hope you all enjoyed this story and I would like to say thank you to all those who reviewed or added to favorite or alert lists. Your support is tremendously welcomed, so thank you, friends! :D

Enjoy this last chapter and please drop a review in the end to tell me what you think and if you have any ideas for any more stories, do not hesitate to tell me. I will consider all of them wisely!

**Disclaimer: **I do not any of the characters within the Tolkien universe … no matter how much I wish it.

* * *

Just as the last shred of hope was about to leave and despair take its place Aragorn noticed that Legolas' chest began moving. Without him supplying air. Joy replaced every other emotion as Legolas began to cough. The coughs soon evolved into choking and shuddering and water seeped out of the corners of his mouth. Aragorn quickly turned him over to his side and watched with relief as he threw up the murky river water he had swallowed. Then he turned him back onto his back.

There he took the first deep breath on his own and his eyes opened, if only to small slits. He closed and reopened them to try and clear the haze that covered his vision. Then blue orbs, filled with pain and confusion, fell on the human that loomed over him.

"Aragorn?" his raspy voice was almost nonexistent and raw from all the water.

"Thank the Valar," Aragorn breathed upwards to the heavens, relieved that he got to hear the voice again. He turned his attention back to the Elf. "We need to leave this place. Can you move?"

They were not safe out in the open so soon after a battle and even with his clouded and tired mind, Legolas knew it. He nodded slowly, as not to disturb his spinning head and moved to sit up. Pain erupted from his side and he moaned and clutched his throbbing side tightly.

"Steady, my friend," Aragorn instructed and took a strong hold on the prince and guided him up. Legolas leaned heavily against his friend and without the support he would have surely fallen to the ground. The fact that he let him support him without a complaint testified to how weak he truly was and that concerned Aragorn deeply.

But he did not voice it. So silently and slowly they moved away from the battlefield and headed for the very trees where they had made camp earlier.

* * *

The fire cracked and kindled softly as Aragorn stared without really seeing into its bright flames. His mind was swirling and he risked a glance over at his sleeping companion again, for the umpteenth time since settling down at the outskirts of the forest.

Legolas had been completely motionless the past hour but Aragorn had long since gotten use to the stillness of his friend. Normally the Elf could stand still and steady as a rock for hours at the time, barely even breathing or blinking. But what scared Aragorn the most was that the Elf actually slept with his eyes closed this time. They were sealed tightly shut and that only made the ranger's concern that much higher.

When they had reached the tree line Legolas had all but collapsed onto the ground, the simple walk having worn him out completely. When Aragorn apologetically stated that he needed to clean his wound, the Elf had only nodded. He had not the energy to do anything else. Aragorn suspected he was not lucid enough to comprehend what was transpiring around him. Nor did he respond, other than a few grunts and sharp intakes of breath, when the ranger had set to work and began prodding and pulling at the injury.

Half an hour later when the wound had been cleaned and bandaged, the Elf had fallen unconscious again and now lay next to the fire, the orange light softly illuminating the half of his pale, fair face while leaving the other half in the shadow of the night that had fallen.

Aragorn fiddled with the burning fire for another moment before moving over to his friend and crouched down. He inspected the bandages that was already stained with dried blood and lifted them gently. What he found underneath was somehow surprising. The injury itself looked healthy but something else seemed mixed with the red blood. That was a black tint that seemed to swirl between the red and when Aragorn leaned closer and smelled it he had no doubt what he was dealing with. The Orc blade had been laced in some sort of poison. Perhaps it would explain how little Legolas had resisted after that wretched creature had stabbed him. He had seen the Elf continue fighting even after he had been struck and knew that he could not be so easily stopped. But right now, that did not matter. What mattered was getting the poison out of his system before it did any more damage. It had already been in there for far too long. Aragorn cursed his inattentiveness for not checking for any poisons before. He knew Orcs tended to dip their blades and arrows in toxins. He just hoped it was not too late.

He was so caught up in his worries that he did not notice someone watching him. Only when a voice pierced through the night did he focus on the tired blue orbs that stared up at him.

"What is the matter?" Legolas' soft voice asked.

"Welcome back, _mellon-nin_," Aragorn smiled relieved. This time he could recognize his friend in the bright eyes compared to earlier at the river when all he could see was hazy pain. "How do you feel?"

"You did not answer my question."

"Nor did you."

"I feel fine," Legolas quickly answered.

Aragorn huffed a quiet laugh. "Why do I not believe you?"

"It is my answer. What is yours?" Legolas was quick to counter.

Aragorn sighed and knew he couldn't hide it. The worry was probably carved into his face and the Elf would see through it in a second if he tried to casually pass it off. Also, he had too much respect for his friend to simply lie to him in matters such as these. He didn't try and sugarcoat it. "I fear for your wound. I think poison lingers in your body."

"I suspected as much."

"Why?" Aragorn frowned.

"I could feel it just as clearly as the blade. I could not move or think properly. It felt like I lost control of my own body."

"And now?"

"My bones are weary, but my body feels my own."

It was like a great weight lifted from Aragorn's shoulders. He knew Legolas would always downplay his injuries because of his damn Elvish pride he didn't claim he had, but he would never directly lie if infected with poison. That the effects had worn off over the course of a few hours was a good sign, but the toxin that had infected him still needed to be drawn out of the wound. They did not know about side effects or delayed functions it could have.

Aragorn grabbed the cloth he had used and discarded in the water bowl earlier. "This will hurt," he warned.

Legolas only nodded and steeled himself for the incoming pain. The ranger gave him a quick pitiful look that the Elf, had his eyes been open, would have ignored and set to work. A excruciating half an hour later the blank tint seemed to have disappeared and Aragorn reapplied the bandages around the Elf's chest tightly, muttering a low apology when he wrestled the injury too much.

Though it looked like the poison was out of Legolas' system he could not assume such a thing nor would he take the chance. They needed confirmation and more advanced herbs and medicine than was at their disposal in the wild.

"We need to get you to Elrond," Aragorn decided. He knew the more experienced healer would be able to tell more about the poison than they knew at the moment. He feared his friend would suddenly turn more ill if they left it as it was now. Obviously Legolas did not share his opinion. If he did, he was too proud to say.

"Aragorn, I feel fine. I am weary, but I am fine."

"You have a bleeding wound."

"So do you." Legolas hinted at the shallow cut that was donned on Aragorn's arm along with the few scratches on his hands. The ranger had already dismissed them and quickly tied a strip from his clothes around it to stop the small bleeding. Hardly a fair comparison to the large hole in Legolas' side. But Aragorn still smiled at his friend's concern though it was hardly needed.

"Do not play games with me, Elf. You know what I mean."

* * *

As dawn approached and the first rays of sunlight broke across the sky, their horses returned. They came galloping across the bumpy, green plains and Aragorn had never been more relieved to see the beasts.

But they were still frightened from the close encounter and it took some time coaxing them and calming them down enough for them to stand still. By the time the Sun rose from the hills and cast her shine across the land, Aragorn had begun packing their things for the trip to his home. He had Legolas propped up against a tree trunk, resting while the ranger gathering their belongings. He placed most of them on Legolas' horse as he did not believe the Elf had the strength to ride on his own, and though he argued against it Legolas knew it too. But that did not mean he was thrilled about it. He hated feeling weak and helpless.

"You know Elves are more persistent than Men," he argued again.

Aragorn didn't even turn to acknowledge it. He had heard it all before. "If that is how you feel than perhaps you can walk to Rivendell all by yourself."

"Allow me a few hours rest and I will," Legolas claimed self-assertively.

"Do not fool yourself. You would not make it a league."

"No … I probably wouldn't," Legolas cast his eyes down, once again hating his body's weak state.

Aragorn noticed his friend's despair. He smiled reassuringly. "Then it is a good thing you have a ranger with you. I will get you to Rivendell on one piece if I have to carry you myself."

It seemed to lift Legolas' spirits a bit again. "Now who's the fool? You could not carry me all the way."

"Has that ever stopped me from trying?"

"Indeed, it has not."

"You see, my friend. It is no fool's errand if there is but one fool left to fight for it."

"Perhaps that is why I have never given up on you, human."

"Worry not. There are plenty of time left for that."

"Of that I have no doubt." Their friendly banter died down and a comfortable silence fell as Aragorn tightened the strap around their bags and made sure they were secure on Legolas' horse.

"Aragorn," Legolas broke the silence and waited until the man turned his brown gaze to him. Then a grateful smile broke out on his face. "_Hannon-le_."

Aragorn smiled back and moved closer to his sitting friend. "What for, _mellon-nin_?"

"For holding on to me," his voice was soft and sincere.

Aragorn clasped his hand on Legolas' shoulder as the Elf did the same on his. Each of them squeezed and smiled. Always it would be a sign of their strong friendship that would be tested throughout time but never broken.

"_You are welcome, my friend_."

**END**

* * *

Woaw … that end was kind of cheesy, but I've never been good at them anyway.

So … remember what I told you at the start. Review with opinions or ideas if you have them! Until then, be at peace!

Crimescenelover.


End file.
